The flight of years began, have laid them down
In their last sleep: the dead reign there alone.
So shalt thou rest: and what if thou shalt fall
Unnoticed by the living, and no friend
Take note of thy departure? Thousands more
Will share thy destiny. The tittering world
Dance to the grave. The busy brood of care
Plod on, and each one chases as before
His favorite phantom. Yet all these shall leave
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come